


Melodic

by LovexAndxEdelweiss (kyuutier)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, implied Austria (Hetalia)/Hungary (Hetalia)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-28
Updated: 2014-02-28
Packaged: 2018-01-14 01:13:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1247167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyuutier/pseuds/LovexAndxEdelweiss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roderich deals with his clingy young lover while waiting for his wife to pick him up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Melodic

     Long after the school hours ended, the soft tinkling of a piano could still be heard drifting the halls, a lonely ghost of the powerful swells of music that filled the auditorium most days. Mr. Edelstein sat at the piano, his head bowed, a small wrinkle of concentration forming in its usual spot between slightly furrowed eyebrows. After almost a full minute of silence, he sat up and played a short bit of a tune. He nodded, seemingly satisfied with the result, and leaned forward to the almost-blank sheet music sitting in from of him. He thought only a moment longer before marking three more notes onto the page, the wet ink winking pleasure at their discovery.

     He sat back and sighed, rubbing his forehead. Two weeks of this, and what was the result? Not even a full measure of music. He still had a very long way to go before he would be able to remember the full song. The soft touch of hands on his shoulders startled him out of his reverie. He huffed at the interruption, but lilted his head to the small questioning nibbles on his earlobe.

     “You’re early, Liz.” The nibbling stopped immediately and he had only one pissed-off grunt for warning before sharp teeth sunk into his ear. He yelped accordingly, reaching up to massage his stinging lobe as he twisted away on the bench, turning to glare at the albino looming over him. “Gilbert!”

     The senior shrugged and took over the space vacated by his teacher, sitting far too close on the small bench. “Your fault, you called me Liz.”

     Roderich shook his head and frowned, still rubbing his stinging ear. “I thought you’d gone home. I’d rather call you Elizaveta than call her Gilbert.” He sat still as the far younger boy gently took his hand away and leaned in to kiss his ear apologetically.

     It still hurt, but he didn’t see the need to make Gilbert feel bad for it so he let it be, watching as his young lover started caressing the hand he was still holding captive. “You’re being uncharacteristically… gentle. Did something happen?”

     Gilbert merely shook his head, slipping off the thin gold wedding band his teacher was wearing and tucking it in his pocket. Roderich was used to behavior like this and knew better than to mention it. Abruptly Gilbert dropped his hand and sat up straight. “So what were you playing? I don’t recognize it.”

     Roderich blinked at the sudden change, but shrugged as he turned to examine the sheet of music. He wasn’t sure how much of himself he wanted to bare to the impulsive teen. “It is… my great-grandfather’s legacy, of sorts.” He glanced over and saw Gilbert staring at the music curiously. A soft smile touched his mouth. “My great-grandfather was a composer. This piece is what he was working on when my family was forced to flee Austria during the war. He died in Switzerland and the sheet music was lost. I remember it, faintly. I am trying to re-create it.”

     Gilbert looked over at him, his eyebrows arched in surprise. “You’re Austrian? You were alive all the way back then?” He paused to think a moment more. “Your family is Jewish?” And then another, unbidden. “Have you been back there since you left?”

     Roderich hummed disapprovingly at the barrage of questions. Gilbert looked contrite and held his tongue so that the other man could answer.

     “I was born in Salzburg, but we left when I was a very small child. I really am not that old. And I am Catholic, you know that.” Gilbert stared a moment, then his gaze dropped to the teacher’s chest and remembered the thin silver crucifix he sometimes saw, draped delicately over the Austrian’s breastbone.

     “Oh yeah…” He licked his lips then, his mind wandering a little into dangerous territory. Roderich shirtless, Roderich clothes-less but for that silver icon, Roderich draped so temptingly over that self-same piano that they sat at now… He blinked when he realized Roderich was still talking.

     “… have been back a few times to visit my parents, they moved to Vienna after the end of the war. They have a small apartment now, above a café. It’s quaint.”

     “How come they didn’t move back to Salzburg? Isn’t there that thing… That program to help you get back stuff you lost in the war, like your house?” Gilbert was fingering the piano keys curiously, trying to place the few notes that Roderich had written down.

     Roderich nodded slowly and glanced over at him. “I am surprised you know about that. Yes, I suppose they could have done that, but I wanted to stay in America and they had no need for such a large house at their age. Anyways, the bureau was still very corrupt back then so it’s unlikely anything would have come of an inquiry.”

     He gently placed his hands over the boy’s and guided them over the correct keys. The lack of conversation was comfortable, the next few minutes were quiet but for the random pressing of keys, starting a song and switching to another mid-note. This was why Gilbert would never be good at playing an instrument, Roderich thought exasperatedly, as Fur Elise turned into Ode to Joy turned into Swan Lake. He had no patience at all.

     Then, suddenly, before he could even process what was happening, Gilbert had abandoned the keys and dragged him sideways – always surprisingly strong for such a wiry frame – to face him. Roderich caught the faintest shine of startlingly powerful hunger in those ruby eyes the moment before their lips clashed. Kissing Gilbert was a little like a train wreck; unexpected, unable to distance oneself from, and usually bloody. More than once he had pulled away with a copper taste in his mouth. This time was no exception.

     Roderich managed to break from him for a few moments to move from his awkwardly twisted position to sit up on one knee, his other foot on the floor. This left him hovering over his young, impatient lover. He smirked faintly and brushed the ruffled albino’s cheek with calloused fingertips, leaning down and kissing him gently, subtly drawing back each time Gilbert tried to deepen it. When they finally parted again, Gilbert was glaring at him in frustration, and near panting from the effort. Roderich simply smiled and stood up, fixing his collar and brushing himself off.

     “I am sorry, Gilbert. My wife should be on her way here now.”

     Gilbert’s mouth twisted into a scowl, he stood suddenly and backed his teacher against the piano, trapping him in place with his arms on either side of the other’s hips. The piano’s discordant yowl was an unexpected but satisfyingly dramatic side-effect. “I don’t care about her. I want you. I _want_ her to catch us. You’re getting a divorce anyways; I don’t see why it matters. I’m legal and I’m graduating soon.”

     “But I am not divorced yet, and you are not graduated yet.” Roderich’s arms went around Gilbert’s shoulders in a loose hug. “Patience.”

     Gilbert grunted in frustration and moved into the hug, clinging to the Austrian like a child. “I’m tired of waiting. The night I graduate better be the best fucking night of my life. You owe me for being such a goddamn cocktease.”

     Roderich laughed softly and cuddled against him. “I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> i don't caaaaare how cliche that title is. i don't. i don't care. *quietly sobs*
> 
> anyways yeah part of a whole high school au i was planning before i got into homestuck. spoiler alert, gil dies of cancer and roddie and eliza don't get a divorce.


End file.
